Unresloved
by AfewSentencesShortOfaParagraph
Summary: A short series of dabbles pertaining to EClare scenes in Season 11. Feel free to suggest short scenes you want me to write!
1. Chapter 1

**The episode last night was so perfectly wrought with emotion that I couldn't help but want to get inside Clare's head. I get in Eli's head all the time, but I really wanted to explore Clare's feelings and thoughts in the episode…specifically the moment when she was staring at Eli across Above the Dot. This will be a short one-shot. **

**My other stories will be updated soon. Sorry, I haven't had a lot of time to write. =P  
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Jake Martin was disgusting…granted I had used him as a prop to get a rise out of Eli, but his comment about making out was unwarranted.

Eli calm was just so unnerving…

He was supposed to be the obsessive one. He was supposed to have a hard time handling the implications of our breakup. He should have been begging for me to talk to him. He should be stealing glances at me from across the room; he shouldn't be able to keep his eyes off me.

And yet here I was, watching him intently as I sat alone at the mock bar. He was talking to Adam and Jake. They seemed to be hitting it off quite nicely, and my stomach tightened strangely as Eli smiled at something Jake was saying. That smile…

Tears sprung to my eyes, but repressed them viciously. Why was he okay with this; why was I the one falling to pieces.

I raked my eyes over his face again and again. I was searching for any sign that he was bluffing, that he was just a good actor- hiding his real feelings expertly well. But his face looked oddly serene. There was a calmness there that I had never seen before.

My gaze landed on his lips, and my breath hitched, getting caught in my throat.

Every kiss that we shared flashed through my mind, twisting the dull blade in my heart just deep enough to let me keep hold of the tears. The tenderness of our Romeo and Juliet kiss…the passion and spontaneity of the one in the library…the elevated flirtations of our first date kiss…the complete, utter happiness and love of the one we had shared in his room as we tried to conquer his problems together. I lingered on that kiss, my eyes glued to the way Eli's pink, full lips moved as he talked.

How would I ever be able to kiss another when I so desperately yearned to run up to Eli and attack his lips with mine at this inappropriate time?

'_Damnit, Clare_,' I scolded myself. I broke up with him. He was unstable, and I didn't feel safe.

So did I feel so incomplete without him?

I shook away the thought. I knew the way I felt about him wasn't just going to go away, but I hadn't expected to be so unhappy with the way things were panning out. I should be happy Eli was moving on just fine…it was just weird; out of character.

I mean, this was the boy he spent a year trying to get over the fact that his girlfriend was killed. I didn't know Julia, or anything about their relationship, but it couldn't have been much more intense than mine and Eli's. So why was he able to forget me in the matter of a week?

My stomach rolled, and I had to rip my eyes from Eli's face. Not that it helped…my eyes landed on the couple snuggling next to me.

Unable to control my rampant thoughts, my mind jumped to a bittersweet memory. A hammock…a starry sky…strong arms wrapped around me…the feeling of love so strong it was nearly palpable. I was Eli's wish come true, and he was mine. So where had we gone wrong?

I blinked back the tears as I remembered how intense every feeling from the moment had felt. Eli loved me- there was no way I could deny that.

I had to find out why he was so emotionless…something wasn't right and I would get to the bottom of it.

Eli loved me, damnit, and he was going to admit it before the night ended.


	2. Irrevocable

**Have you ever, while watching a show like Degrassi, seen a scene played out before you and you just feel compelled- like it's your duty- to get inside certain character's heads? Like, it's simply a compulsion to map out ever thought over the course of the scene because it was just so brilliantly acted that you want to get to the bottom of each and every emotion that played across the actor's face? **

**No? So it's just me? I thought as much…**

**Either way, this is the Little Miss Steaks scene from U Don't Know part 2 in Clare's and then Eli's point of view. **

**I don't own Degrassi…enjoy!**

_Clare's Point of View:_

Being with Jake was effortless, fun. He made me smile, and we could actually go on a date without some doomsday topic ruining the entire mood. Jake was easy-going, and he didn't like drama. He was just want I needed.

Of course, it probably wasn't fair to make that sort of observation, but it was just so hard not to compare Jake to Eli…they were just so different! Everything about the two relationships was polar opposite: the way they made me feel, their style, their personalities…literally everything.

Sure, I had loved Eli, but Jake made me feel so light and carefree, and I loved it.

He had agreed right away to go to Little Miss Steaks with me, no way had I imagined him turning down a meal of any kind, so we had a nice excuse to give our parents when they asked us to join them for movie night. We hadn't been completely honest…my mom and Jake's dad thought we were going as just friends; getting to know each other better. But they didn't need to know all the gory details. It was better this way.

"Trust me," I said, letting my thoughts flow from my head to my mouth, "this is sooo much better than movie night with our parents."

For a brief second of insanity Jake had actually thought it would be fun to go on a 'double-date' with them. Boys were so silly sometimes. I knew Jake just didn't want any secret, and I could respect that, but I was not looking forward to that conversation.

"We should tell them eventually," Jake pointed out again. He had a point, but it just wasn't a good time.

"Hey, Mom," I started in a mock, chipper voice to prove how awkwardly stupid it would all sound, "I'm dating your boyfriend's son! No thanks…I'm going to try not to think about it."

Jake laughed, and his smile made my heart skip a beat. I had never been this hormonal with Eli, had I? I didn't think so.

Jake seemed to be on the same page as me, and he leaned forward so we could meet over the table. I forgot we were even in public as Jake gave me a short but sensual kiss in the middle of the restaurant.

Kissing Eli had never felt quite like this…but kissing Eli had been different. Each kiss had held a special significance…it made me feel different when I kissed Eli. I wished I knew what kind of different, though.

"Oh, sorry," a shrill voice suddenly cut through my awareness and Jake and I pulled apart quickly. It was a familiar voice, though it was quite newly familiar. It was the last voice I had expected to hear on this very date…but it didn't seem like this was an unplanned run-in. "Didn't see you two lovebirds! Awkward…come on Muffin, let's go sit."

I looked up to find Imogen Moreno attached to Eli's arm, looking like a smug bitch. What in the world was she trying to accomplish with this chance encounter, I asked myself, though I already knew the answer. Forcing Eli to see me and Jake together would force him to move on faster…force him to see that I had moved on, leaving him behind. Then he would have all the time in the world for her. A nerve in my heart twitched angrily.

I let my eyes travel over Eli's face, and the hurt there was unbearably obvious. So, he hadn't known about Jake and me. And he had just witnessed us making out in a public setting. I suddenly felt needlessly guilty. I hated being the cause of that look on Eli's face…

"Eli," I started because he was staring at me as if demanding an explanation. But I couldn't meet those eyes; there would be too much for me to handle in their depths. "You know Jake…"

Eli shifted his attention to Jake, his intense anger focused all on the sweet boy I was still getting to know. Jake didn't deserve this, and I hoped Eli wouldn't do anything rash. But the emotion worse than his anger was all that pain etched into his features. Was it too much to ask that someone as good, if not entirely unbalanced, as Eli could be happy for a change?

Jake nodded at Eli, oblivious to the tense atmosphere.

But I wasn't done talking. I turned to the reason Eli was in all this pain because of me. "What a coincidence, huh, Imogen?"

It came out sounding like an accusation.

"Just trying to break the ice," Imogen shot back defensively, narrowing her soulless eyes at me. And I was just starting to like her, too. I rolled my eyes at her, not believing her thin explanation for even a second.

Jake and Eli seemed to be stuck in a stare down as well, though Jake was still entirely relaxed. "Hey. How's it going?" he asked Eli politely.

Finally, Imogen realized that her little plan was the worst possible idea, and Eli was close to snapping again. I watched him worriedly as Imogen tugged on his arm. "Let's go sit down, okay, Muffin?"

Eli's reaction was instant and his fury was evident. "Stop calling me that," he insisted before yanking his arm free and storming out. I watched after him, the shattered pieces of my heart managing to divide one more time. I hated putting him through this. He deserved so much better.

"The real Clare Edwards would never do what you just did," I shot at Imogen, trying to make it clear that I still cared about Eli, and I would never intentionally hurt him just to keep him away from other women. It was wrong, it was manipulative, and Eli was so vulnerable at the moment. Was Imogen really so heartless?

"We both know that's not true," she accused. "The real Clare Edwards would do anything to get what she wants."

And with that she stormed away, leaving me with the broken pieces of my heart, and a new thought throbbing in my head. Maybe she was right…I had hurt Eli in irrevocable ways. And I had someone to help me pick up the pieces. I had left him alone and scared to fend for himself.

Would I ever be able to forgive myself for what I've done to him, or would I be left forever surrounded by thoughts and feeling that all led back to Eli Goldsworthy?

XXX

_Eli's Point of View:_

She was certainly a weird breed of human, that Imogen Moreno. I liked her…she was quirky, misunderstood, but she was also socially awkward and complicated.

I had heard before that actors were, as a general rule, eccentric people, but Imogen went above and beyond eccentric. She was just down right wacked out.

On some level I had to give her respect, though. She knew she was weird and that she didn't fit in, but she didn't let that stop her from being herself. I think that was my favorite thing about her…she was so utterly sure of who she was that she had no problem putting it on display for everyone. She was a good friend; exactly what I needed at the moment.

The walk to Little Miss Steaks was a long one; I no longer had Morty to transport me where ever I wanted to go, whenever. Just another painful reminder that everything before Spring Break really did happen. But, Imogen wanted to discuss Clara's backstory, or something similar, and I was game for that. Whatever would help her give the performance of a lifetime, I would be okay with.

I finally arrived, spotting Imogen immediately. Her hair was always the first thing I noticed about her…earlier she had been wearing cat ears…and her ridiculous up do's made her easy to pick out of the crowd. Not that she would be hard to pick out regardless; she kind of stuck out like a sore thumb.

"Hey," I greeted her as soon as she was within ear shot. "You said in your text that you wanted to talk about Clara."

With Imogen it was always better to get right to the point before she took you on the wild train ride that was her thoughts. Sometimes I had a hard time keeping up. "Yeah, just some backstory type questions I wanted to hash out," she assured me, sounding kind of spacey, which wasn't weird, and nervous, which was. "You look fantastic, by the way," she complimented, giving me the once over. She switched gears so fast that I swore I almost got whiplash, and her word immediately made me uncomfortable. I thought we had come to an understanding earlier…

"Cool…so, should we sit down," I asked as I took the seat across from her.

"Um, can we go sit, like, back there?" Imogen suggested vaguely, already out of her seat and tugging me along. She was so physical, and I found it hard to be polite when all I wanted to do was tug free of her death-grip.

"Uh…kay," I agreed, in no position to really protest.

But I should have protested…I knew Imogen had some ulterior motive…there was always something more with this girl.

Because right around the corner was Clare Edwards…sucking face with that new guy she had tried to make me jealous with back when I was still safe because I was on the meds. But now, since I had quit, I was an emotional powerhouse that constantly short-circuited. I wasn't protected by the constant dull grey that the medicine provided like a security blanket, and everything was red with an edge of deep, menacing green.

Seeing Clare with another guy…it cut like a million razors raking down my arms, legs, back and stomach. The razors left festering wounds…I was open and vulnerable in so many places. But, what hurt the most was the realization that I had been lying to myself. I thought I was in a good place, I thought I was getting over Clare little by little; day by day. But I had only been repressing all those intense feelings of regret and desire.

I still loved her like I had never loved anyone else.

I would never get over her.

But she had certainly gotten over me.

I glared accusingly at the both of them for shattering my happy denial. Imogen was saying something and tugging on my arm, but I barely heard, because Clare was avoiding my searching gaze. She couldn't even look at me. And that killed me.

I did hear, though, when she addressed me directly. "Eli, you know Jake." Yeah, he's the guy that's making you happy…I should be that guy. "What a coincidence, huh, Imogen?" There was something accusatory about Clare's angry question, but I didn't have time to dwell on it. I was too busy watching Jake's lips…trying not to think how they had just been attached to the most important thing in my life. Fuck him.

"Hey, how's it going?' Jake asked smugly, and I wanted nothing more than to punch the smile off his face.

Luckily, Imogen interrupted before I could do anything rash. "Let's go sit down, oaky, Muffin?"

She had walked me into this. This was her fault, not Clare's or Jake's…though they were certainly responsible for enough. She was the one I should hurt; I should make her bleed like I was doing now.

No, violence was not the answer. Doing stupid shit to deal with my anger and pain was how I lost Morty and Clare all in one night. I just needed to get out. I couldn't watch this a second longer. "Stop. Calling me that." I demanded in a clipped tone, yanked my arm from her grip and stormed out.

So, I was still in love with Clare. How had I really ever thought I had stopped?

Whatever…that wasn't important…what I had to do now was find out how I would win her back.


	3. Pieces

**So, this is by the request of ilovetaylorswift13- the scene in Should've Said No Part 1 when Clare is writing the note to Jake and sees Eli with Imogen. Once again I will do both Eli and Clare's perspective of this moment. =)**

**Also, I am in no way opposed to writing in Jake and Imogen's point of view as well. If there are any tiny scenes this season that you want in their points of view I will be happy to write! Just let me know. **

_Clare's Point of View:_

Alli was right- I needed to relax. I spent so much time and energy these days worrying about getting hurt; about letting someone else in, that I was going to miss the opportunity to start something with a really great guy. Jake was sweet, and he seemed so easygoing. This could turn into something really good.

But that didn't mean I didn't feel guilty about neglecting homework and chores to make out with him for an hour the night before. That behavior was so unlike me, and it couldn't happen again. Not that it wasn't fun…

Okay, so maybe saying it couldn't happen again was overstating things. I was surprised to find that I actually wanted it to happen again, and happen soon. But I didn't want it to happen the same way. I wanted to get to know who Jake was these days- knowing him as a child wasn't going to cut it. We should talk…familiarize ourselves with each other.

Talking actually sounded like a really good idea. I needed to know where he stood in relation to us, and I wanted to figure out where I stood, exactly. Talking would be good for both of us.

And I had the perfect setting. Mom seemed so casual about letting me stay home alone with boys that it was almost too good to be true. I might as well take advantage of her carefree behavior while it lasted. And she wasn't going to be home this evening- it seemed perfect.

The bell rang, signaling the end of Media Immersions. I had a free period before lunch, so I could find Jake and extend the invitation. When I spotted him in the halls, though, he was talking to Katie again. It probably had something to do with the new student profile. After all, that girl was nothing, if not intensely thorough.

I thought about interrupting them, but that was rude and I already felt like I was constantly walking on thin ice with Katie. On the other hand, I was pretty excited to invite Jake over later- I was sure he'd have something charmingly sarcastic to say before he accepted the invitation. I just really liked talking to him, and I was looking for any excuse to do so at this point.

Of course, I could always wait for him and Katie to finish whatever conversation they were holding. No, because then I'd be rushed and Jake would be late to class.

I guess I would just have to postpone asking him over, which wasn't a big deal, but I was suddenly disappointed.

I walked out the side door, figuring I could get some fresh air and work at one of the picnic tables for my free period, when a big, bright red truck caught my eye. I could still invite Jake now; it just didn't have to be in person…

The idea was crafty, cute and flirty. It was perfect- I could just leave a note for Jake on his car and he would find it later. And, I couldn't help but admit, it was nice to know the note would force him to think of me later. I liked knowing I would be on his mind.

I happily bounded up to the truck, pulling out my notebook on the way.

_Jake,_ I started.

_Mom's out tonight. Let's talk._

It was short, sweet and straight to the point. In other words, something Jake would appreciate.

I was about to sign it and walk away when I felt a pair of eyes burning a hole in my forehead. I glanced up, not expecting anyone special, but I met a pair of emotionless, deep green eyes.

Eli was sitting on the bench with his newest…I didn't even know what to call her. Her name was Imogen, and I was pretty sure she was the reason Eli had stopped taking his medication. I felt a deep swelling hatred for her that may or may not have been unwarranted. She was just so…strange and awkward and intense and skinny…and kind of beautiful in an unconventional way.

Ugh, wrong train of thought to follow- there were so many reasons I should not be thinking those sorts of thoughts about Imogen Moreno. It wasn't her fault that I couldn't stand seeing Eli with…

No, no, I couldn't go there either. I was over him, or in the process of getting over him, anyway. And Jake was assisting quite nicely with that, so why couldn't Eli find someone to…keep him company, too.

For a second I wondered if he had kissed her, and I felt a sudden backlash of pain so intense that my knees almost buckled. Why was that such a hard concept to swallow? I wasn't the first girl Eli had kissed, and I certainly would not be the last.

As if he could hear my thoughts, and wanted to spite me, Eli leaned in to whisper something in Imogen's ear. She started giggling like crazy, so maybe he wasn't just whispering. I couldn't really tell from where I stood.

My stomach churned.

Fine, Eli Goldsworthy, two could play that game. If you want to flaunt the fact that you're over me, I can do the same. Talking suddenly seemed like a very silly thing to do. I crossed out the offending word several times before writing 'have fun' over the top to replace it.

'Take that, Jerk,' I thought in Eli's general direction, ripped the page out of my notebook, tucked it under Jake's windshield, and stormed off.

It was so on.

_Eli's Point of View:_

"It's always so stuffy in here. How spectacular would it be to go to school underwater?"

I pulled my head out of my locker specifically to raise my eyebrows in question at Imogen. Seriously, where did she come up with some of this shit?

"You know, you would drown underwater…"

"Always such a kill joy, my medicated friend- of course I meant if I was a dolphin it would be such a joy to go to school underwater. Dolphins are intelligent, so they have to learn somewhere, duh."

"Yeah, sure," I rolled my eyes at her. Sometimes it was just easier to play along. "Being a dolphin would be fun, but I think I'll stick to being human. I hear they're pretty smart, too."

"Not all of them," Imogen giggled. "But you sure are. In fact, you're one of my favorite humans. Such a fascinating specimen."

"Thanks, Imo, and now I feel like a lab rat."

"You certainly are as cute as one!"

I was sure she meant it as a compliment, but there was just no way to be sure. I decided to best way to handle things would be to start walking to class.

"Let's skip French!" Imogen called after me, running to catch up.

"Why would we do that? I try to limit my skips to once a month, and we just skipped class recently."

"Because I feel the creativity bouncing around inside me, and French is not an acceptable outlet. Let's go outside- we can work on the play together!"

"Why can't we do that at lunch…inside?"

"Because it's stuffy in here; don't you listen to me! Also, I will have exploded by the time lunch arrives if I don't do something with all this energy." Imogen jutted her bottom lip out in a pout. She looked kind of like a sad puppy, but I remembered she was an actress. I hadn't really seen a whole lot, but the little I had seen in class was pretty terrific. Of course, it made it hard for me to tell if she was really upset, or if she was just acting.

Either way, she had been more than a big help to me, and she was always there for me. Even if it was kind of creepy sometimes. The least I could do was reciprocate.

"Fine…lead the way."

"Eli Goldsworthy, you deserve gold from a million leprechauns!"

Again, I thought it was best to let that one slide. I had no idea how to respond to half the things she said. Enthusiastically, Imogen grabbed a hold of my hand, intertwining our fingers, and started to skip toward the parking lot. I had to half-walk, half-jog to keep up with her, and I desperately wanted to remove my hand from hers. The fingers were bony and long- not at all like the last set of fingers that had fit perfectly between my own.

But it didn't matter…I was never going to hold Clare's hand again, and I never wanted to. She was the bitch that wrecked what we had going. Or, at least, that's what I had to keep telling myself. And every day it hurt just a little less to hear.

"Perfect," Imogen suddenly declared, plopping down on a bench that was still on school property.

"This is the most anticlimactic skip hangout in history," I informed her incredulously. She was making me skip French to sit in the school parking lot?

"I like it here," Imogen whined, like my comment about this place had personally offended her.

"Fine, here it is," I gave in, deciding I would definitely lose that fight. I sat down next to her, angling my body toward hers. "You know, I'm almost finished writing the play."

"So what else can we do?" Imogen asked suggestively as she batted her eyelashes. It was as if she had known I was done and didn't need to skip to actually work.

"We could talk?" it sounded like a question because I was immediately uncomfortable.

"Don't look now, but I see a manipulative lover in a five foot radius."

"Imogen, English, please."

"Clare's standing over by that big truck," she giggled, sounding absolutely insane.

But I looked anyway, to confirm that it was true. There she was, beautiful as ever. I wasn't supposed to notice those kinds of things, but I couldn't help that her radiance still managed to pierce me through the heart every time I saw her. She looked up suddenly, meeting my gaze, and her expression was unreadable. I was frozen with dread immediately- I didn't know what to do.

"What should I do?" I whispered under my breath to Imogen. She always knew how to handle these things. She was the queen of making things look happier than they were- she was an actress.

"Want to make her jealous?" Imogen whispered under her breath, and I gave a tight, imperceptible nod. "Lean in a whisper something in my ear." She giggled again, and I immediately understood her sudden giddiness. She was far better than I really gave her credit for…

"How am I doing?" I whispered in her ear, plastering a smile on my face as I tried to make it look like I was flirting with Imogen.

"Stop it," Imogen pushed me back, giggling again and again. I smiled at her genuinely- she really was quite good.

'Thanks," I whispered, eyeing Clare in my peripheral vision. She was staring down at whatever she was writing, and, perhaps hopefully, I thought she looked a little miffed. Well, it served her right. She was causing me all sorts of pain and anger it was only fair if I got to cause her some, too. But there was also the bigger part of me, the less vindictive part, which was upset to be the cause of that look on Clare's face.

But it was still satisfying to imagine that she was just a bit jealous.

"It's my pleasure, Eli Goldsworthy," Imogen shot back at me, a note of seriousness in her voice. I just hoped she wasn't getting the wrong idea by helping me. I liked Imogen…a lot…but I certainly wasn't in the right place to start any kind of relationship. I was still pretty broken.

I looked up one last time to see Clare storming off angrily. I was broken, and that girl was still running off with all the pieces of me- one by one.


	4. Leaving

**I hope to update Calm, Meet Storm and Come What May pretty soon, but I just have so much fun writing these little snippets of the show. I just love dissecting character thoughts and motivations; must be because I am actor. **

**Anyway, these next two chapters are for sushi.23; I hope you enjoy your requests. =)**

**This is the scene in Lose Yourself Part 2 where Clare gets kicked out of rehearsal in Clare's, and then Eli's, point of view. Also, I don't own Degrassi. **

_Clare's point of view:_

I had already made up my mind about this ridiculous play- it was going to be ten different kinds of horrible. How could it not be when Eli was using it to trash my name just because I could deal with his instability? Which simply wasn't fair, if you asked me.

Jake and I walked into the theater where Imogen, Eli, Fiona and some other girl I was unfamiliar with were sitting around a table with water and scripts close by. I sighed to myself, knowing this was going to be hard for me to sit through.

Eli had a right to think whatever he wanted to about me, but did he really have to broadcast it to the entire school? Did he really have to throw it up in my face?

Not wanting Jake to hear this play because I didn't want his perception of me to be skewed…wrecked…was one thing, but I also didn't want to hear it for myself. Knowing what Eli thought of me was going to be painful- as if I didn't feel bad enough for everything that he had gone through. But there was just a time in life where you have to put your foot down; you have to stop begin selfless and think of your own well-being.

And my well-being centered on the fact that everyone didn't think I was some kind of heartless monster. So I would sit through this read through and make sure nothing was too outlandish.

After all, it _was _based on a true story, isn't that right Mr. Goldsworthy?

"Ahh, we finally have our Fritz- thank you for joining us Jake. Now we can-," Fiona broke off as she saw me just a half a step behind Jake. "What are you doing here, Clare?"

"I'm covering the play for the paper, so I only thought it would be fair to sit in on the first read through."

"No, no- we don't need that kind of distraction right now. Maybe, if you check with me first, you can come watch a rehearsal or run-though once we've made our way further through the process. But right now, as the director, I am asking you to get lost."

"Let her stay."

The words were decisive; an order. I didn't have to look up to know that Eli was staring straight at me…his gaze was making my ears burn as only his could.

"Eli," Fiona's voice dropped into a whisper, but everyone in the room could still hear, "we both know your judgment is just a tad clouded when it comes to Clare Edwards. Please just let me do my job. This run-through needs to be interruption free. We don't exactly have a lot of time to put this show together."

"She has a right to listen to the read-through- she's just doing her job. She stays."

Fiona let out a huge, exasperated sigh. "Fine, Clare, the playwright has spoken. Just, go sit in that corner, and don't interrupt us, got it?"

"Yes, ma'am," I assured Fiona, pulling up a big box to sit on away from the table, slightly hidden in shadow. I took the opportunity of being well-hidden to search Eli's face. Why had he let me stay? He didn't look angry or spiteful as I thought he should have. There was no smug smirk on his face. He just looked focused, kind of like he was glowing. He was probably just proud of his piece of slander.

"Okay then," Eli finally said after handing Jake a copy of the script. "We all know our parts, and Fi has kindly agreed to read the stage directions. Let's get started!"

I had to admit, although I hated to, that Eli's writing had only improved. The story was well set up, and the characters were well developed. It was really, really good as far as a play from a first time playwright went. And that worried me.

It was so good, but so not the way any of our past had happened. I was having a hard time keeping my mouth shut about a lot of things. And we had only read a few scenes. It was just so disheartening for me- this show just sucked you in, and it was only in the read-through stage. I couldn't imagine what it would be like fully rehearsed and costumed with sets to bring it to life. People were going to hate me.

"Ari, you can't fight Fritz," Imogen exclaimed, and I begrudgingly admitted that she deserved the part. She was really good. I just really no longer liked the idea that she was essentially playing me; not after that stunt she pulled at Little Miss Steaks.

"He dragged you into this Godforsaken casino- he started it," Eli, Ari, shot back. He was definitely playing the character with a melodramatic edge, but it worked. It was just an overdramatized version of Eli himself, after all.

But this was all wrong. Eli was taking my act of selflessness and turning it into an act of violence, greed and hate. I had taken Fitz to Vegas Night so that he wouldn't hurt Eli and Adam. Eli was making it seem like I was a helpless victim, and Fitz and I were in cahoots to bring 'Ari' down. It was ridiculous.

"But I won't be able to live with myself in he finishes it…please," Imogen read, making Clara sound so…insincere. Something I knew from experience that she was good at.

"Clara caresses Ari's cheek," Fiona drawled, and it was all just too much. I was in no way that much of a manipulative bitch, but this scene was certainly painting me as one. All I had ever wanted was to keep Eli safe. I loved him, for Christ's sake. I hadn't understood that was a punishable offense.

It was starting to be too painful, too stupid for me to keep my mouth shut a moment longer. "Really?" I deadpanned, trying to contain my fury and my hurt. This was not fair.

Imogen shot me a dirty look, but other than that the cast continued to ignore me.

"He kisses her and turns away. Fritz appears with a huge knife."

"Never turn your back on the blade," Jake had lowered his voice, I assumed, to sound more menacing. But he was far too excited to sound evil. Why was he so happy to be part of something that would ruin my reputation?

Jake turned to me, a huge, elated smile illuminating his face. Normally, I couldn't resist that smile, and I would smile back with equal warmth, but just rolled my eyes. I couldn't believe Eli had actually written this, and was trying to pass it off as based on the truth. It was the furthest thing from. Couldn't we be more mature about this split? If he had a problem he should have just come to me. Instead he was making up lies that he would try to pass as truth. It was infuriating. He was infuriating.

"What?" Jake asked, instantly reading the anger that I was no longer doing a good job at containing.

But everyone aide from Jake, who seemed to be the only one who actually cared about me, decided to ignore me. It probably wasn't a wise decision- I was very close to boiling over. Soon, I wouldn't be able to stop myself, and I would explode.

"Ari turns, whispering to Clara," Fiona soldiered on.

"Traitor," Eli accused, his voice a betrayed whisper. That was the very last straw. Everything I had done during our relationship, I had done for Eli. I knew I wasn't perfect, and there were a lot of names that could be better used to describe me, but I was _not _a traitor. From where I was standing, Eli was the traitor…writing me as some kind of bad guy!

"Okay, come on, that's ridiculous!" I finally spoke up. Eli wasn't going to get away with this. As it was, he already seemed upset that I had brought their first read to a complete stop. But I would not be silent any longer. "As a report from the Degrassi Daily, I have a few questions regarding the veracity of this scene." All eyes were on me, most of them pissed. Jake was the only one who seemed confused and not upset. So much for him thinking I was easy-going. Maybe that was why Eli let me stay in the first place…because he knew I wouldn't be able to listen to his garbage and not make a scene.

"What do you mean," Eli demanded.

Did he really not understand where I was going? I decided to be more direct, "None of this happened; not this way!"

"I know," Eli responded immediately, his voice condescending, "It's a play."

"That you're advertising as based on a true story," I pointed out; I couldn't wait to hear how he would defend that one.

"Clare," Jake warned, his voice low. I didn't even think I was being too big of a nuisance. There was a lot of anger that I was leaving bottled inside, but I supposed I could turn it down.

"Wow," Imogen interrupted, dragging the word out into more syllables than it was meant to have. "If anyone's still wondering why Eli dumped you in the first place…"

So much for tuning it down; was she really this much of a bitch to everyone, or had I done something special to earn her attention? She of all people knew that was not how it happened, and even if it had, I still wouldn't be in the wrong at this moment. "You stay out of this," I warned her. She had already done more than enough damage to Eli's and my fragile state of coexistence.

"Okay," Fiona finally spoke up, her voice calm, but firm. "New policy- no more press. You've got to go; shoo, shoo, shoo."

I looked around the table, my eyes landing on Eli. Would he speak up on my behalf again, or would he want me gone this time? He met my gaze for a second before dropping his eyes to the table. Fine, I didn't want to hear anymore anyway. It would only make me angrier.

I quickly stormed out, wondering what I would do while I waited for Jake. He was my ride home, after all.

I spotted his truck in the parking lot, and was happy to find it unlocked. I rolled down the manual windows so the air would make the cab less stuff, and then went into sulk mode.

They had successfully gotten rid of me in there, but that didn't stop Jake from hearing all the lies that Eli would spread about me.

As I waited for Jake to finish up I weighed the pros and cons of simply telling Jake all about the relationship I had shared with Eli. On one hand, he would know the true story then. On the other, I would have to relive everything I didn't really feel like dwelling on.

I went around in my head for about an hour before deciding Jake didn't need to know all the gory details. I could just tell him the important things.

As I compiled a list of things I would have to set straight for Jake, things Eli would have certainly mentioned in his play, I heard footsteps approach the truck.

As soon as Jake got in, I started talking. "All I ever did was try and protect Eli from himself," I told Jake honestly, and the words burned on their way out. Now that I wasn't doing that anymore, it seemed Imogen was trying to take my place. And she was doing the job all wrong. But I couldn't dwell on that, so I continued down the list of things Jake needed to know. "I set off one, tiny stink bomb as a diversion, and I did not try to have sex with Fitz, nor did I offer him dry clothes to see him naked, but I did…"

"What are you talking about?" Jake cut me off before I could finish. I was instantly confused; shouldn't all these things be a relief to him because I hadn't done all the awful things Eli was no doubt saying that I had?

"Eli is using his pulpit to trash me," I stated the obvious, turning toward Jake, "and he obviously wants you to hear it. So, I'm just coming clean about everything."

Jake started to dig through his backpack, and I started at him questioningly. That was, until he pulled out his copy of the Love Roulette script. I suddenly felt an intense impulse to burn it. He was staring at it when he finally spoke again. "I know this is fiction."

"But Eli is such a good storyteller," I complained, knowing that was the reason I was so scared. He really was amazing at what he did, and it was hard to know that he was using his talent against me- a talent we had once used as common ground in our relationship. "It's so easy to want to believe him. If anyone knows, I do."

It had been easy to believe that he was getting better, conquering his demons. It had been easy to believe that Eli was over Julia…so many stories I believed. And the saddest part was, Eli believed his own stories, too. Even when they weren't true. Soon enough, if not already, he would believe that I really was the bad guy.

And that upset me the most- more than my reputation taking a trip to the Guillotine, more than Jake hearing all these lies about me and more than that night at the hospital when I had to leave Eli when he needed me most.

If Eli hated me for that, or started to see our whole relationship as one big disaster with me at the wheel, I would start to hate myself, too. Because Eli hating me was just not something I was ready to deal with.

I cared about him too much still- even if I was afraid to admit it to myself most of the time.

"I would never believe Eli over you," Jake told me sincerely, bringing me back out of my thoughts.

"You wouldn't?" I asked, relieved. At least that was one person I didn't have to worry about.

"He's weird," Jake scoffed, and I could not argue that point. "He wears eyeliner and writes plays."

Had I not been so happy that Jake really wasn't going to let Eli's play come between us, I might have been offended that Jake was bashing Eli. I liked that Eli was different…the fact that he was creative was not what made him weird. But, it wasn't worth bringing up. I was just so satisfied to hear Jake was indifferent to what the show had to say. Easygoing, indeed!

"This might not be as bad as you think," Jake handed me the script after we shared a laugh over my absurdity at imagining Jake would listen to Eli over me.

I grabbed the pages from his outstretched hand. If Jake could be detached from it; view it as a work of strictly fiction, then so could I.

I started to read, and I couldn't stop.

_Eli's point of view: _

"Where is he?" I asked Fiona for the tenth time, hoping she'd be able to provide an actual answer as opposed to a shrug.

"Relax, Eli, it's not even 6 yet. That was the call time- no one is late."

"But everyone else is here, so he's the latest. Just another reason not to trust Jake Martin."

"He's doing an amazing job on the sets, and you're overreacting. Take a deep breath, and drink some water," Fiona directed me, and I had to admit it sounded like a good idea. I was just anxious to get started; I wanted to know what my actors thought about the new script. If it impressed them enough, maybe they would stop complaining about how they already had the other scrip halfway memorized. It wasn't my fault I had another stroke of creativity, and a sudden change in direction. I liked the new script a million times better, and, from what she had read, so did Fiona.

After all, writing was rewriting.

Yeah, kill me.

"Tell me again why you decided to flip Clara's motivation completely, Eli Goldsworthy."

Imogen dropped into the seat on my left, a hint of petulance in her voice. I chuckled at her, knowing the fact that I had basically completely rewritten her character was driving her even more insane than she was naturally. Apparently, it was an actor thing. Imo had already memorized the entire first draft of the script, and I was impressed by her dedication, but that also meant she was the whiniest.

"Because the first script was all wrong; it just wasn't a satisfying portrayal of how reality helps to produce art." I had explained this to her at least twenty times since the night before, but she obviously wasn't satisfied with my answer.

"Yeah, but now I can't be an evil wench, and I was so looking forward to that!"

I shot her a funny look, but she was totally serious. I could see the genuine disappointment in her eyes. "You never cease to amaze me, Imogen."

"Likewise, Eli Goldsworthy," she suddenly flashed me her coy smile and batted her eyelashes at me. I always seemed to forget that she took almost every observation I made about her to be a compliment.

"Right…so, you like the new script, or you don't?"

"Well, of course it's perfect. You wrote it, silly. It's just so drastically different."

"That's kind of the point," I smirked at her, knowing she would never be able to wrap her head around the change…not because she was incapable, just because she didn't want to see Clara as the heroine. She wanted me to keep hating the character because that meant that I also hated the person I based the character off. Imogen really didn't want to believe that I wasn't over Clare, but I could respect that kind of denial.

I didn't really want to believe that Clare was serious about Jake Martin. But that didn't change the fact that she was.

"Ahh, we finally have our Fritz," I heard Fiona say, breaking me out of my dismayed thoughts. "Thank you for joining us Jake. Now we can…What are you doing here, Clare?"

Clare? My head shot up to find Clare trailing in after Jake, a determined look on her face. That was…interesting. Could she and Jake not stand to be apart long enough for him to attend the read-through, or did she have a different motive for intruding on the new script?

"I'm covering the play for the paper," Clare explained matter-of-factly, "so I only thought it would be fair to sit in on the first read through." Her reason was soundproof enough, but I couldn't help but feel there was more to her wanting to be present.

"No, no- we don't need that kind of distraction right now," Fiona decided, already trying to push Clare back out the way she came. "Maybe, if you check with me first, you can come watch a rehearsal or run-though once we've made our way further through the process. But right now, as the director, I am asking you to get lost."

Before I had time to think through whether it would be a good idea or not, I opened my big mouth. "Let her stay."

I watched Clare's face…she seemed surprised, but she wouldn't meet my intense stare. Perhaps it was a good thing that she stay. I mean, as far as she was concerned, my show was still about ripping her to shreds. I was kind of excited to have her listen to the very first read of the improved Love Rolette. Maybe she'd even like it. The thought made me happy.

But Fiona turned to approach me, lowering her voice so that the others in the room would not hear what she would have to say. "Eli, we both know your judgment is just a tad clouded when it comes to Clare Edwards." I scoffed, offended, but Fiona continued, not worried about hurting my feelings. "Please just let me do my job. This run-through needs to be interruption free. We don't exactly have a lot of time to put this show together."

Her point was valid enough; we didn't have a whole lot of time to make this show the masterpiece it deserved to be, but we had a talented cast. We would pull everything off just fine, and Clare sitting in on one measly rehearsal was not going to stop us. Besides, I was now consumed with the idea that Clare would be among the first few to hear my new work. She deserved to know the way the story played out- she had been part of the reality that created it.

So, I used Clare's valid excuse. "She has a right to listen to the read-through- she's just doing her job. She stays."

Fi just rolled her eyes at me, seeing right through my feeble excuse. But she decided not to push the boundaries any further. She knew she would lose anyway. "Fine, Clare, the playwright has spoken. Just, go sit in that corner, and don't interrupt us, got it?"

"Yes, ma'am," Clare agreed happily, going to pull a box toward our table. I smiled after her, having faith that she would not mess this up. As Clare got settled, I turned my attention to my cast and started to hand out scripts. I was excited for us to get started; to see my child in action. This was the reason I decided to write the play in the first place…this was my moment of utter pride.

"Okay then, we all know our parts, and Fi has kindly agreed to read the stage directions. Let's get started!"

As soon as I declared that we get going, Fiona started to read the opening descriptions. I loved her for reading every word as dramatically as if she was playing an actual character. She certainly knew how to make me a happy playwright.

Imogen had the first line, and although she was upset about the drastic change in her character, she still read brilliantly. I was instantly pulled in to my own story- loving the way every actor gave one hundred percent. Even Jake, though dopey, did surprisingly well as Fritz.

I was beyond satisfied.

That was, until Clare started to get restless.

"Ari, you can't fight Fritz," Imogen read, staring me straight in the eye. Why did it not surprise me that she had already started committing the new script to memory? She was great, and I found myself often wishing I would give her what she wanted. But my heart just wasn't in it, as much as I wanted to make Imogen happy.

"He dragged you into this Godforsaken casino- he started it," I read back, trying to give her as much to work off as she was giving me. Acting wasn't my forte, but it helped that I had written the script and was playing a dramatized version of myself.

The small smile Imogen flashed me told me that I was doing just fine. Or she could just be trying to please me again. It was hard to tell.

"But I won't be able to live with myself in he finishes it…please!"

Yeah, Imogen was definitely perfect for the part.

"Clara caresses Ari's cheek," Fiona read the stage direction.

"Really?" Clare's voice suddenly interrupted, and I saw Imogen shoot her a dirty look. I wondered what Clare had to protest about, but I decided not to give it too much thought. There was just a tiny sting of disappointment that she wasn't enjoying this as much as I was.

"He kisses her and turns away. Fritz appears with a huge knife," Fiona continued as if Clare never even opened her mouth.

"Never turn your back on the blade," Jake said in his 'Fritz' voice. It would have been more effective minus the big shit-ass grin he gave Clare after almost every line, but I could not begrudge him enjoying himself. I was probably having more fun than he was. There were several other things I could begrudge him…like his relationship with Clare. "What,' Jake asked suddenly, catching my attention again. Apparently Clare was not happy about that specific line, or maybe it was the entire play in general, but she rolling her eyes away from Jake- extremely pissed.

That wasn't fair- I changed the ending for her. She wasn't even giving the show a chance. She wasn't giving me a chance to redeem myself.

"Ari turns, whispering to Clara," Fiona kept on trucking…as if she had committed to totally ignoring Clare's existence. Too bad Clare was making that exceedingly hard to do.

But if Fiona could ignore her, so could I. The show must go on, as they say.

"Traitor," I shot at Imogen, hardly able to contain the laughter that bubbled to my lips. This acting thing was more fun than I had thought it would be. Especially since Imogen was doing such a great portrayal of Clare…or Clara.

"Okay, come on, that's ridiculous!" Clare exclaimed, shooting out of her seat. "As a report from the Degrassi Daily, I have a few questions regarding the veracity of this scene." I should have known she was going to find some way to make this monumental moment in my life some kind of attack on her. I was the evil, unstable ex, was I not? I sighed, exasperated. She was going to hurt my feelings, I could feel it. I could only hope she wouldn't drag it out.

"What do you mean," I added fuel to her fire. As long as she was going to do this to me, it might as well be thorough.

"None of this happened; not this way!"

Yeah, Clare, no kidding; it's fiction. And here I had always admired her intelligence. "I know; it's a play," I reminded her, trying to keep the condescension out of my voice.

"That you're advertising as based on a true story," Clare shot back at me, gaining steam with every word I said.

I considered spoiling the ending…telling her that this was no longer what she thought it was, but I really wanted to surprise her.

Surprisingly enough, the first person to jump to my defense was Jake. Score one point for him- too bad he was at -8. "Clare," Jake warned, his voice low and soothing.

But Jake was not the only one willing to speak against Clare's attack. Not that I totally blamed her for sending in the battalions. She still thought I was attacking her in a much more public manner.

Imogen was quick to speak up as well. "Wow, if anyone's still wondering why Eli dumped you in the first place…"

I was about to remind Imogen that her statement wasn't accurate, and she didn't have to be quite so mean, but Clare got her words out faster.

"You stay out of this," Clare warned her, and I did not like the way either of them were talking to each other. Neither of them were mean people, so why were they attacking each other?

"Okay," Fiona put an end to the madness with one word, and then continued to call the shots. "New policy- no more press. You've got to go; shoo, shoo, shoo."

For the first time in a while Clare looked to me, her eyes pleading silently. I wanted so badly for her to stay, but she wasn't doing any good here. Fiona was right- my judgment was clouded when Clare was involved. I looked down at the script, unable to look her in the eye any longer. She would only see weakness there. I didn't look up to watch her leave; I just heard her angry footsteps retreat.

There she went with another piece of my heart…and she didn't even stick around to hear the ending of my story; of her story.

She was always leaving when I most needed her to stay.

**Coming soon to a computer near you: the scene at the end of Lose Yourself Part 2…when Clare finds out she's the hero. So many emotions... **


	5. Hero

**Told you it was coming soon…I just feel like writing my life away right now. So, this is the scene at the end of Lose Yourself Part 2. It was adorable wasn't it? I can't wait to write it.**

**So, I should get on that, no? **

_Clare's Point of View:_

It had been tremendously difficult to read in some places, but I had stayed up all night to finish the latest draft of Love Rolette…and the lack of sleep was completely worth it.

I had been totally unfair to Eli; he gave me more credit than I deserved. I had no right to blow up on him during his read-through, and I definitely shouldn't have been convinced that he had been out to get Jake. Just when I thought I had Eli figured out he surprised me again…this time it was a sweet surprise. Reading his play was like getting a taste of the reason I fell in love with him in the first place. As much as the chemicals were misfiring in his head, he was still the same sweet, sensitive, caring guy. How had I lost sight of that?

"So," Jake started when I got in his truck and handed over the script, "what did you think?"

"There's no way to deny that he's brilliant. It's really…something." I still hadn't come up with the right word to describe Love Rolette; to describe how it made me feel. The word was elusive and frustrating.

"Yeah, I thought so too. I guess being weird has its advantages- he sure can write."

"It…it left me speechless," I admitted.

"I think he still loves you," Jake confided, sounding like he wasn't totally in love with that idea.

"I can never tell with Eli," I brushed off his comment, turning to stare out the window. I didn't want Jake to see the tear that escaped…because I thought Eli still loved me, too. And I had been treating him like crap. Nobody said this was supposed to be easy.

Jake seemed to sense I needed quiet; needed time to be alone, so as soon as we were at school he gave me a quick peck on the lips and promised to seem me after class. I nodded after him, grabbing the mirror in my purse to make sure there was no evidence that I had been crying.

After I was sure everything looked normal, I tracked down Adam at his locker.

"What is it this time?" he asked while I approached. "Is Eli going to torch down the school today?"

"No, I was being ridiculous. Eli's not going to hurt anyone."

"That's quite a change of opinion. What sparked this newfound trust in Eli's mental stability?"

"Have you read Eli's new draft of the play?" I asked Adam in lieu of his question.

"He hasn't let me; he wants me to see it on opening night so it doesn't distort the magic…or some weird logic. I don't know; it's Eli. Why do you ask?"

I shook my head, not really wanting to get into it with him. "I just need to talk to him. Do you know where he is?"

"The theater; where else? Sounds like there is something you're not telling me."

"We'll talk later," I promised him before taking off. Sure enough, Eli was at the same place at the table that was set up last night. He was scribbling something on a copy of the script. He was just never satisfied with his work.

I took a deep breath, steadying myself. There was just so much I wanted to say, and so much I couldn't say. It was hard to find the right words.

I walked over to the table, stopping directly opposite Eli. He was so involved in whatever he was writing he didn't even notice me come in. So I came up with the most brilliant opener ever. "Hey."

He looked up immediately, his expression a mix of shock and sadness. I wondered if the pain and sadness would ever disappear from his eyes, or if it would always linger. I wondered if the sadness Eli left in my eyes would become a permanent fixture.

He seemed at a loss for words, so I decided to tell him why I was there. "I read your play," I informed him softly. The entire thing flashed through my mind once again. Why couldn't things just work sometimes; why did they have to get complicated and messy.

Why couldn't we go back to the beginning and start over?

I tried not to start crying again.

"And…," Eli prompted, his eyes catching every play of emotion across my face.

"It's…," I needed to find that elusive word, the one that would sum up Eli's work- the one that would sum up Eli's heart and his soul…the one that would sum up Eli. "It's beautiful," I told him, the word finally coming to me.

He smiled for just one second at my word choice- one short, genuine second. "Yeah, I made some changes," he joked, trying to keep things light.

"You made Clara the hero," I reminded him, still amazed that he cared that much about me; thought that highly of me. And yet, it didn't change a single thing. He was still the guy with the dead ex-girlfriend always getting in the way. He was still the guy who crashed his hearse to keep me from leaving.

He was still the tragically beautiful Elli.

"That's because she is the hero."

His voice was fervent, sure. How could he still believe that? After all that I had done to him, after all that he had put me through, how was I still the hero of his story?

I suddenly felt the tears again; they were trying to push their way out.

Because no matter how much he still thought I was the hero…no matter how much he still loved me…no matter how much I still cared about him, or how I still loved him, too, it couldn't change our stories ending. We were never going to be in the right place at the right time, wanting the same thing. And that killed me.

Eli smiled at me again, this one softer, sadder. And, suddenly, I couldn't look him in the eyes anymore because it was too much.

How could a love so beautiful and pure get so out of hand?

How could Eli still look at me with that hope in his eyes, and why did I want so badly to give him a reason to hope?

Why did I have the feeling he was still the hero of my story?

_Eli's Point of View: _

"All I'm saying is, don't you dare touch that script again, Goldsworthy. Everything about it was perfect. And our cast is so talented. I got Goosebumps at the end, Eli…Goosebumps!"

Fiona had been waiting at my locker just to praise me…again. If she didn't stop soon, I might float away on account of my big head. "I understand what you're saying, I really do, but there are just a few lines that need tweaking. I won't be happy until every line is perfect, and I caught just a few flubs in the read-through last night. Just a few!"

Fiona sighed, but I could tell I was already winning this particular battle. She wanted the show to be spectacular, as well, and she knew I was capable of providing her with a spectacular script.

"Fine, but you will do them immediately so I can approve them before lunch. Give our poor actors a break; Imogen is going to explode if you do any more major rewrites."

"They are minor tweaks, I promise you. And even if they weren't Imogen is the least of our worries. I'll bet she already has the new script memorized."

"True…she is kind of a freak."

"I think he prefers the word passionate, but I could be wrong."

Fiona chuckled, pinching my cheek. "There's that smirk I love…now go, rewrite…make your play perfect."

I gave her a salute, and started toward the theater so I could work in quiet. The computer lab would be too noisy and crowded.

I passed by Adam's locker and remembered that we were supposed to hang out before he had to do radio stuff…we weren't exactly seeing a lot of each other lately. But Adam would understand; he always did.

I pulled out a post-it note, quickly scribbled a sorry, and told him where to find me if he needed me, and then stuck it on his locker. I felt bad, but my director would bite my head off if I begged for my revisions and then did not have them to her by her deadline. Someone had to keep me on track.

As soon as I got to the theater I set up at the table, and dove in. I was so absorbed in my work that I didn't even notice when another person joined me in the room.

"Hey," an unexpected but hauntingly familiar voice cut through the haze of the alternate universe I was so focused on. I looked up to make sure I wasn't imagining things, and, sure enough, Clare Edwards stood across the table from me. She looked…regretful? I couldn't imagine why. "I read your play," she continued.

Ah, so that's why she was here. Jake must have given it to her to read. I was a little disappointed that I didn't get to see her initial reaction to it, but I wanted to hear what she was thinking now. Her opinion meant more to me than Adam's, Fiona's or Imogen's combined. She was my inspiration, after all. Still my muse no matter how she tried to distance herself from me. And, of course, I could understand that impulse. I was a monster, and I drove people away. I drove the person who meant the world to me away.

"And…," I asked, anxiously awaiting her response. She obviously had something to say or she wouldn't have come to find me.

"It's…," Clare seemed to struggle with the right word to describe Love Rolette. I watched as she seemed to flip through the files in her brain to find the perfect adjective. "It's beautiful," she finally was able to collect her thought.

Clare thought it was beautiful…all that hard work had been worth it, then. It was for her, inspired by her and about her…I was glad she thought it was beautiful because that meant I had portrayed the story right. She was beautiful.

She would always be the most beautiful, shining light in my dark, messed up world.

I smiled at her, the pride breaking through for just one second. "Yeah, I made some changes."

"You made Clara the hero," Clare sounded so surprised by this; she was in awe.

"That's because she is the hero," I told her immediately, and I could hear the passion in my own voice. Yes, Clare was my hero. Even though she left, she was never truly gone, and she continued to save me. She would always be the heroine of my story…she was the hero in every story she ever touched.

Clare was amazing, and I would never live a day where I would take her for granted. I had done that once, and the consequences were far-reaching.

She was holding my gaze now, and I was afraid to look away; afraid that if I did she would disappear and take this beautiful moment of peace and serenity with her. Because for a second, just for a second, I saw a look on her face that told me she still loved me every bit as much as I still loved her.

Yeah, I screwed up, and there were still things in my life that I needed to fix. But maybe, just maybe, I had a chance at fixing the most important thing.

I smiled at her, tentative and bittersweet, and she looked away. I saw the tears welling in her eyes. I had made her cry so many times that it broke my heart…but there was nothing left to break at the moment.

'_I love you, Clare Edwards_,' I screamed in my head, willing her to hear the things I could not say out loud. '_Please pick up the pieces of my heart, put them back together and be my hero again. Because my heart, broken or whole, will always belong to you_.'


End file.
